


Nasty Blood

by DungeonKeys



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blood, M/M, Magic, Vampires, asktehkoopz, lava-bros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24223021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DungeonKeys/pseuds/DungeonKeys
Summary: When a man and vampire live together write the rest of the joke yourselfHuman!Bob is an alternate version ofBob Motleyfromlava-broswho is an alternate version of Motley Boss Blob from Super Mario.Vampire!Marilyn is an alternate version ofMarilynwho is an already alternate version of Iggy fromasktehkoopzwho is an alternate version of Iggy Koopa from Super Mario.Enjoy
Relationships: OC/OC, bob/marilyn
Kudos: 1





	1. Façade

The journey was long, there were many complications, a lot of which would make any sane human just turn around and go home, but the accountant finally made it to his destination: the Umberbridge manor. The short accountant dropped his bag on the doorstep, finally taking a sigh of relief knowing he’d actually made it. If it weren’t for the fact that his boss would throw a hissy fit if he came back empty handed, he would’ve gone back home instead of walking up a goddamn mountain trail to get there. Whoever thought building a manor on the side of a mountain face was a good idea was actually an idiot. 

Without wasting any more time in the frigid wind, Bob brushed the arms of his suit and moved his hand up to the door. He tilted his fist to not hit the door with one of his rings as he gave it a firm knock. The building was huge, so he expected to wait at least a few minutes before the door was answered, but to his surprise the door opened before he even lowered his hand.

“Come in! Come in! I’ve been waiting for you.” A chilling voice seeped through the crack of the door. No face was shown yet, just the door leading into darkness. 

One important thing to note about Bob: he was a coward, and this had murder manor written all over it.

“Oh, well, actually, why don’t we set up a scheduled day to talk somewhere… more public? Like a cafe! I saw a few not super shady ones in the town at the bottom of this mountain.” Bob responded in a shaky voice, he could just feel the impatience breathe through the door. “Or we could talk right here at the do-” 

A gnarly hand whipped out from the shadows and grabbed onto Bob’s collar, dragging him inside and shutting the door loudly behind them. Bob was just glad to grab his bag before the door closed on him, because it gave him something to clutch to tightly as he felt like he was going to vomit in fear. The room was pitch black aside from the little light that came through the crack of the door from the dreary sky. There was a moment of silence as he stood glancing around nervously, until the sound of someone inhaling deeply, as if they were smelling for something, rang through next to him. 

“S-so are we going to t-talk business? You were interested in partnering with us.” Bob forced through to break through the silence. “I’m here to negotiate a c-contract.” 

There was another long pause of stillness. Even though Bob couldn’t see, he could still feel as if he were being circled like an animal. Then a hand suddenly gripped his shoulder tightly, and a voice coming a little too close to his ear. 

“Yes, of course, I really appreciate you coming all this way to talk with me. You see, I’ve been keeping an eye on your little _trades_ business for quite a while, and I got to say I'm very impressed.” The voice was smooth and silky, it sent shivers down Bob’s metal spine. “Now, I’ve got to be honest, when I asked for you to visit me, I was more interested in _you_ than your business. See, I’ve heard a lot of good things from you, a lot of _skills_ that have… piqued my interest.”

The accountant could feel the hand from his shoulder slowly creep down to his collarbone, gently massaging the base of his neck and purposefully trailed the fingers along his knot of his tie. His face heated nervously, the gestures were so harmless yet controlling. This man knew what he wanted before Bob even got there. That’s some confidence Bob wished he had.

“Now, tell me about _you_. I’ve been dying to learn about the infamous Solomon Savage.” The voice ended with a chuckle, which was hot, but Bob was completely taken out of that state. Of course this was all meant for Sol, he always gets the hot ones.

“Oh, I’m not Mr. Savage.” Bob corrected after clearing his throat, feeling the air completely drop like a ton of bricks.

“What?” The voice next to him deepened in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’m his accountant, Robert Motley? Mr. Savage sent you a letter telling you about my arrival. I guess it got lost in the mail.”

There was another extended pause until a pair of hands clapped in front of Bob. The room lit up in a flash, candles along the walls, and a large chandelier hanging not too far from them coming to life. The entrance way of the manor was grand and filled with decor: paintings, statues, and art lined the walls with shimmers of gold and silver. Though there was only enough time to adjust for a moment to the sudden surroundings because a tall figure stood looming over him. His eyes were sunken and carried a heavy sense of boiling anger behind them. His skin was a sickly, almost green tint to it with freckles spotted over his cheeks and ears.

Bob could only assume this was Marilyn, the man that had contacted Sol about the partnership. Though now that he realized that Sol wasn’t the one to show up, Bob might leave empty handed after all. He pulled at his collar nervously and cleared his throat again to try and relieve the tension in the air. 

“Mr. Savage thought it was best if I came to meet you first, just so we can go over the boring stuff, like finances and paperwork. Just so you knew what you were getting into.” Bob’s eyes started to avert from Marilyn’s gaze because his words didn’t seem to have any effect on the situation. Oh God, Bob told Sol this was a bad idea, but who listens to Bob? He’s just the guy that went to university for _business,_ he couldn’t possibly give good advice. “S-Sol- Uh, Mr. Savage is a very busy man too. So he tries not to travel around if he doesn’t have to. B-but if you have any questions, I’m here to answer them for you. I have some paperwork we can look o… over?” 

His eyes trailed as Marilyn walked off in the middle of Bob’s sentence, still giving off a very displeased air. Seemed as if he was really disappointed Sol wasn’t the one to show up. Figures, he’s the guy that’s supposed to be the “ _genius_ ” behind this whole business, and Marilyn came out the gate extremely horny for him. So the disappointment was pretty viable. Though once Marilyn left, Bob was alone with the awkward silence and heavy impression that he wasn’t welcome anymore. 

Feeling partially relieved that he had the opportunity to go back home, Bob turned back towards the door. This place was already pretty creepy, and this _new business partner_ gave off so many strange vibes in just the few minutes he’s shared with him. He never even introduced himself, and if Bob wasn’t informed already of who he was, that would make the meeting a lot more awkward than it already was. Actually, that didn’t change the experience they had in the dark, it was still extremely weird. Whatever, Bob had the opportunity to bail and he fully intended to. 

At least until the smooth voice from the other room rang out.

“Aren’t you coming? We have a lot to discuss, _Robert_.” 

A sigh unintentionally escaped Bob. Unfortunately he couldn’t turn away from the opportunity of getting such a wealthy investor, though maybe it wasn’t going to be all bad. Once Marilyn realized he wasn’t Sol, he backed off pretty quick. Though that did bring up a few concerns of what would’ve happened if Sol was the one to meet with this investor, especially when Sol wasn’t a big fan of physical contact. But Bob wasn’t Sol, and Bob was there, so it was time to pollute the air with the strong smell of ink and speak in point form to a man that was probably not going to listen. 

Bob followed the sound of bottles clanging carelessly together until he found his way into a warm and cosy living space. The fireplace lit the room up with a very comforting warmth, highlighting the large bouncy couches in front of it with a polished dark wood table between them. Above the fireplace was a large portrait of Marilyn, although it didn’t look as if it were made any earlier than yesterday because he looked exactly the same as in the painting. Bob couldn’t help but stare at it in thought while he put some of the paperwork down onto the table between the couches, apparently Marilyn noticed. 

“Beautiful work, right? Had it done years back, and apparently that was the painter’s last commission before she died. A real shame.” Once the host caught his guest’s attention, he lifted up two wine bottles in his hand with different labels, “Any preference of wine? I’m plenty stocked up on red.” 

“No thank you, I don’t drink on the job.” Bob began sliding some of the papers over to Marilyn’s side of the table as he organized through his pile. He could hear the other man’s playful scoff, he obviously wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“It’s the first night though, and you must be exhausted from your travels. Take a load off, we’ll talk about the boring stuff tomorrow night.” Marilyn proposed through a coy grin, but twitched in frustration when met with deaf ears.

“Oh I’ll be gone by then, it’s a long trip here so it’s a long trip home. I’ll only be staying for the night and heading off in the morning.” The accountant finished straightening out his papers before he settled down on the edge of the couch and gestured for Marilyn to join him on the other side of the table. “So let’s get started, the sooner we start, the sooner we can be done.” 

Marilyn’s brows furrowed a bit, placing the wine bottles back onto the shelf reluctantly and made his way back to the sitting area. “You make it sound as if you don’t want to be here, is my home really that awful?” He slumped back onto the couch, avoiding Bob’s gaze to come off as offended, but was very obviously fake about it. Regardless, Bob didn’t want to stir trouble between them.

“I- No, your place is great, it’s really uh… big. I just figured, you know, you weren’t super interested in this boring paperwork stuff.” Bob scrambled for his words to defuse the very minor conflict he’s caused. “And you know, the fact that the guy you were thinking was going to show up didn’t. So this already started off on a bad note and all.” 

He could feel Marilyn’s eyes trained back on him, watching his hand gestures and movements with intensity. The good ol’ social anxiety started to kick in hard, causing Bob to avoid any sort of eye contact and focus his attention onto the papers. The fact that this man kept switching from being playful to intimidating like a light switch was daunting, it made him extremely hard to read. Which for all Bob knew, could be his intention.

Finally, there was enough time between them to go over some of the paperwork. Bob spent most of the time pacing around the room while reading from the print, and Marilyn found a way to slouch further into the couch until he was practically swallowed up by the cushions. While there was some freedom of his movement, not feeling like the host was watching him at all times, Bob took some opportunities to scout the room. He was a respectable businessman, but old habits still haunted him. His fingers had an itch that he willfully refused to scratch when the weight of an alliance rested on him. This man was so careless with so many valuable belongings, it felt like this was so kind of test of his will. It was a personal Hell for his past crimes.

Not too long into the fourth page of their agreement, Marilyn finally spoke up and cut Bob off. Honestly he expected it to happen much sooner. A bony hand clutched the top of the couch to help pull the man out from the cushions.

“Can I just agree to everything without hearing it? I zoned out forty-five minutes ago anyways.” 

“We _started_ forty-five minutes ago! Have I really been reading this for nothing?”

“Yes.”

Bob tossed his arms in the air with frustration, catching himself before making a further overreaction and gave a deep breath. “Well, it’s your money. If you want to just sign the papers then go for it.” 

A pause held between them for a moment, Marilyn seemed to be caught up with watching Bob’s gestures and tilted his head in thought. “So you handle a lot of the legal documents for Mr. Savage, huh? Must be a real boring job.” 

“Pft, yeah, Sol is pretty bad with money management on his own. I handle a lot of the boring paperwork and finances.” Bob chuckled to himself, he was pretty proud of the work he’s done to keep their business afloat, regardless of how stressful it would get. “It drags a little bit with the repetitive documents, but I do actually enjoy it. Believe it or not.” 

Marilyn’s eyes continued to follow Bob as he made his way around the couch to the table separating them, watching as he fished a pen out from his bag and pushed it across the table towards the almost achieved business partner.

“Wow, I’m impressed. Here I thought you were just a throwaway accountant, but really, you’re pretty important to Mr. Savage, huh?” A brow cocked as Marilyn leaned forward with interest. “A valuable asset, you should be proud of that.” 

There was something behind his words that stung deep, _a throwaway accountant_. His words were sharp, trying to find sensitive spots to poke holes while hiding behind empty compliments. Bob recognized that tactic, yet it still hurt the same. He still couldn't quite put his finger on what Marilyn was searching for yet.

"Well, as important as any book balancing nerd can be, right?" Bob brushed the comments off without bringing too much attention to them. "I'm sure you've dealt with banks for your riches."

Marilyn let out a hearty laugh, causing Bob to jump from his sudden outburst. "Oh no, I handle my own money. I wouldn't trust those… _people_ with it."

"You mean bankers?" 

"No, peasants."

Bob just gave a blank stare in response, completely taken off guard by the fact that this man keeps his entire savings somewhere in this large manor because he didn't trust _bankers_. From what he's seen from the letters, Marilyn is loaded too. All that money is just sitting somewhere in this building being kept by a man that just carelessly tosses it around like tissues. The thought was enough to make Bob start sweating. The temptation was really getting to him now.

"W-well good for you, sir. Now, I'll just need a few signatures from you." Bob flipped through the pages and pointed to the blank lines for the gentlemen to sign, though it seemed as if his attention was now moved elsewhere. 

"Robert, do you have a place to stay tonight? I have plenty of room here if you need a place." He leaned forward, grasping onto Bob's hand on the paper tightly to keep his attention. "I hear the inns in that old town are pretty cold. This place may be old but it keeps the heat in quite nicely."

His hand was freezing against Bob's, who couldn't help but to stare down at it with wide eyes. Thoughts ran through his mind, questioning if this was Marilyn trying to make a move on him. The guy had been trying to wordplay with Bob all night, and it had been so easy to pick up. But goddamn, Bob was so easily swayed by someone just showing the tiniest hint of interest in him. Plus the guy was hot, it was an easy sell. It couldn't be helped that his face began to flush red, completely flustered by the thought that this was some form of flirting. His free hand pulled up to his face and latched on, trying to hide the very obvious dorky smile. 

"I was going to stay in town, but if you got a free room." He smiled into his palm, trying to compose himself but it sure didn't work. "But if it's too much trouble, I really don't mind staying in t-"

"Nonsense!" Marilyn scooped his hand underneath Bob's to raise it up between them. Oh he definitely caught the weakness and was laying it on _thick_. The gentlemen tugged Bob's hand closer to press his lips against his fingers. "It would be rude of me after you traveled so far to get here."

Bob let out a shameful dorky giggle, his stomach was in knots from the display of affection. His judgement was completely clouded as Marilyn got up from his seat and led Bob around the table.

"I just need to sign on the lines right? Why don't I do that later, let me show you to your room first." Marilyn gave a very charming smile, though his eyes made it easy to see through the veil. 

The _generous_ host strung Bob along easily towards the winding staircase outside of the living room. The stairs and walls were made of a cold stone, each flight branched out into corridors, and it wasn’t until passing the second hallway that Bob started paying attention to his surroundings again. The large building was built up alongside of a mountain, the layout made sense for the building to be taller than it was wide, but through the hallways he could see doors and turns that lead into the dark. The further they walked, the further the thought of no one else but Marilyn living here really sank in. Was he taking care of this giant home alone? It was possible he had hired help that came in during the day and left in the evening, but that was hard to believe considering the railing had a sheet of dust on them. That also meant he didn’t get many visitors either. Sounded like a lonely life, but an unrealistic one at the same time. There was no way he could upkeep a place like this without some sort of hired service, unless he spent an entire week cleaning the place every month. Judging from Bob’s brief exposure of Marilyn’s character, it was very unlikely. 

“Tell me about yourself, Robert. I’m sure you have other aspirations besides just counting coins and checking numbers. Any other talents besides making extremely long and boring- Sorry, _professional_ contracts?” Marilyn grabbed Bob’s attention again, not even looking back to him. Must’ve been trying to keep him from getting curious about the home.

“You can just call me Bob, sir.” He responded quickly to get that out of the way, before the thoughts of this man actually taking an interest in him really sunk in. “And well, my job is important, but yeah I didn’t dream about doing this for a living. My dreams were silly and unrealistic though, I wanted to be a magician in a circus.” He chuckled embarrassed as he admitted it outloud.

Now it seemed Marilyn’s interest had been caught, his focus turning a bit more towards Bob with a curious look. “A magician? Why is that unrealistic? Don’t tell me you don’t believe in magic. Especially considering who you work for.” His pace slowed as he turned direction to lead them down the hall of what must have been the fifth floor at this point. 

Bob almost responded upon instinct, of course he believed in magic, but that last sentence stood out, and he looked back to Marilyn’s cold eyes. Magic wasn’t exactly a praised skill in these times, in fact it was downright illegal to practice in it. Nowadays there were so few magic users it’s practically become a myth, stories to scare kids to go to bed on time. Those who had the ability to perform magic kept it to themselves, whether they obtained it by genetics or through intensive study. So how did Marilyn know about Sol? 

The two had locked eyes for a longer period of time then Bob realized, Marilyn still holding him by the end and standing in the hallway. Impatiently waiting for Bob to answer before he gestured to the bedroom door he was leading them to. 

“You can stay here for the night.” Marilyn still didn’t take his eyes off Bob, watching his expression shift from deep thought to surprise when he noticed they had stopped. 

“OH, uh, thank you, sir. I really appreciate you letting me stay here.” Bob quickly tried to collect his thoughts as he opened the door and pulled his bag inside. “I will- um, collect those papers in the morning, just leave them on the table when you’re done signing.” He gave Marilyn a kind smile and nodded in sign of thanks again from the doorway, “Goodnight.”

As the nervous accountant began to close the door, Marilyn swiftly slipped his shoe in the way to keep it open a crack. One eye still peered through to Bob while the door covered the other half of his face. He had a stern look that shook the poor man to his core, before forcing itself into a more playful curiosity.

“You never answered my question, _Bob_.” The taller man stated, “You believe magic is real, right?” 

Bob couldn’t break eye contact, as much as he wanted to. He felt locked and overwhelmed with the sensation that he couldn’t just flat out lie to Marilyn, because it felt wrong. His throat cleared nervously before he could force his words out. “I do, but I always have, I don’t need to witness it first hand to believe it’s real. Goodnight, sir.” 

The answer didn’t seem to quite satisfy Marilyn, but it was enough for him to remove his foot from the door’s way and start heading back down the hall. Bob carefully shut the door and pressed his back against it as he listened to the footsteps fading away to the stone steps. An anxious sigh escaped him as he leaned for a second, giving a chance for his heart to stop racing and take in the room he’d be sleeping in for the night. 

To his surprise, the room was much larger than he thought it was going to be, it was almost the size of his apartment and it was supposed to be a spare bedroom? Bob’s jaw dropped as he looked to the luxurious bed set up with a canopy and way more pillows than there needed to be on a king sized bed. Stepping further into the room, he noticed there was another door in the room that led into a full bathroom. This bedroom was some high class shit that Bob was entirely down for. Unfortunately it was a little brought down by the nervous thoughts of Marilyn being aware of Sol’s magic.

As Bob was getting ready for the night, he couldn’t get it out of his mind how Marilyn could have known about Sol, especially with him being so far out from their base of operations. How _much_ did he know? His boss was fairly well known for his discoveries and research in medicine, but it was apparent that Marilyn was more interested in the side projects he was researching. Or maybe the interest was more in _how_ he was researching. It had been kept tightly under wraps about the side hustle of Sol’s exporting of chemicals imbued with magical properties. Of course the magical part is left out of the promotion of it, however those with a keen eye and knowledge of magic would be able to catch it. So either Marilyn travels around more than Bob suspected, or somehow one of Sol’s concoctions came out this far and into Marilyn’s hands.

After tossing off most of the pillows from the bed, Bob laid back into the soft mattress with a content sigh. Perhaps he was worrying about it too much, as usual. It was obvious he took a strong interest in Sol’s magic, it started to make sense of what he was talking about when Bob had first arrived. That could be because Marilyn was a magic user as well, but as most people who practiced in magic, they tend to keep it very vague in case of snitches. With another sigh, Bob tried to set his mind at ease. He was going to be heading out tomorrow anyways, which he found relieving, but felt a little forlorn about it too. The thoughts of Marilyn getting very close to him kept surfacing in his mind, causing his chest to flutter. He knew these thoughts were just over exaggerations because goddamn Bob was a lonely man. His fantasies were not at all reality, and he’d come to terms with that a long time ago.


	2. Dangerous Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're in it now bois

The brisk air seeped through the cracks of the windowsill, dawn still hadn’t broken the night sky, and the nocturnal were still out to play. Bob was still in his deep sleep, sprawled out in the middle of the king sized bed that he barely took up any room on. The room was quiet aside from the soft whistle from the window’s breeze, though even it was louder than the approaching shadow. His eyes trained down on Bob as he continued to sleep peacefully, hungrily staring at his neck. A bony pale hand pressed down on the bed, pushing in the cushion softly to test the waters of how sensitive of a sleeper the short man was. When no response was given, the shadow made his move. Weightlessly climbing onto the bed until he was situated himself over the slumbering man, as he expected, Bob continued to sleep through it. Cold hands gently brushed along Bob’s cheek like a breeze, persuading him to turn his head and expose his neck to the hungry shadow. His lips parted into a grin as he salivated over his night snack, apparently it had been a while since he’d last eaten. The teeth lining his mouth sharpened, prepared for feasting as his upper half lowered towards an unsuspecting victim. Just as his fangs could barely scrape the surface of Bob’s skin, a sharp pain sunk into the crook of his neck. The shadow paused, confused by the stinging sensation until he glanced next to him to a switch blade dug into him with Bob’s hand holding it tightly. Apparently he was not in as deep of a sleep as the shadow thought.

The air was still as Bob stared up at the figure over him, his eyes barely adjusted to the dark, but it was enough to see the silhouette of jagged sharp teeth from the moonlight. The lower canines were the longest and most threatening, but it brought attention to the familiar underbite. It wasn’t really hard to figure out regardless because he’s only met one person in this whole fucking place. 

“Oh, you’re awake. I was sure you were fast asleep.” Marilyn’s familiar gravely voice came through, completely unphased from the stab wound. “Where did you get the knife?”

Bob could barely squeeze out an answer as the man was still uncomfortably close to his neck. “I keep it under my pillow.”

Before he could respond further, Marilyn grabbed his wrist and squeezed until Bob was forced to let go of the knife. The lanky man leaned back up, sitting back on Bob’s legs between his knees to keep them still and yanked his wrist to pull the smaller man up. His free hand wrapped firmly around Bob's back to keep him close.

“You keep a knife under your pillow? I’m a little insulted you don’t feel safe in my home.” Marilyn couldn’t help but grin, showing off his protruding fangs. 

Stricken with fear, Bob could barely move against Marilyn’s strong grip, and it was obvious that he didn’t need to try hard to keep him in place. He was worried if he’d tried anything it would turn out for the worst than if he kept his cool to try and wait for an opportunity to get out. 

“Uh… actually I keep it under my pillow in my own apartment too. You never really know when you need it, like now.” He shakily corrected. "So why were you in my room while I was sleeping?"

There was a pause as Bob watched Marilyn run through a few excuses in his mind. It was interesting to witness this man thinking he was much more clever than he actually was. "I couldn't get you off my mind, you're just such a cute snack, I couldn't help myself but to get a taste," he cooed with a heavy flirty tone. "I thought we had some chemistry going earlier."

"No. Don't, ugh. Stop." Bob groaned to Marilyn's surprise considering the flirting worked so easily before. "Alright I get it, I'm an easy target, but don't straight up lie about being attracted to me when you're clearly not. Yeah, I would  _ love _ to believe that you think I'm hot and stuff, but you're obviously interested in something else."

Marilyn stared shocked, completely caught off guard by the guy that was wooed by just a touch of the hand not too long ago call him out on his bullshit. What the fuck just happened? The frustration in him began to build, but he quickly composed himself for the sake of playing with his food a little more.

"Well, you're half right. I do in fact want your body, but yeah I'm not sure if you're really my type. A paranoid, nerdy, nervous runt? Nah, I'm more into… hot and feisty that can put up a challenge. Someone I can break into obedience." He leaned forward with a wide grin, his hand crept up along Bob's back to his head, gripping tightly to his hair to hold him still. "But I'll take an easy target when they're dumb enough to st-"

What was a numb sting at the base of Marilyn’s neck became an overwhelming surge of pain across his throat. His eyes glanced down to see the blade now to his other shoulder, leaving a trail of cold flesh cut from start to finish. There was no hand on the blade. Curiously he looked to see his hand still gripping Bob's wrist, while the other laid at his side. Then it clicked. Marilyn's eyes widened with realization as he looked back to meet Bob's. His mouth opened to speak but the damage to his throat barely allowed anything but air to escape. 

There was the opportunity Bob was waiting for, and he went for it. The hand Marilyn didn’t bother restraining shot up, open palm slamming into the wounded man’s chin and causing his head to swing back. The cut along his throat tore open further, Bob had prepared to get blood splatter on himself, but to his surprise there was barely anything. Seems like Bob wasn’t the only one keeping big secrets. Regardless he had to keep moving, as Marilyn released him to keep his wound from opening any further, Bob slipped his legs out from under him and leapt off the bed. Stumbling along the floor, he flicked his fingers towards Marilyn’s direction and threw open the door. 

The wounded man seethed at what he took as a taunt, before he felt the knife rip out from his shoulder and follow after Bob through the door. His palm pressed tightly against his throat, snarling in fury that this punk had actually played him. A caster, nonetheless, right under his nose and he didn’t even realize. Marilyn wasn’t sure if he should be more angry; he didn’t realize it sooner, or excited that all this wasn’t a waste of his time after all. It could still work out. 

Bob slid across the stone floor into the wall, quickly pushing himself off and stumbling his way down the third hallway he must have gone through. How could he get so lost? They hadn’t even walked that far. He couldn’t find that damned staircase anywhere, this place was a fucking maze. How could one floor be so big? He racked his brain trying to think back to any landmarks that could be of any help, but each hallway he went through looked the same, and yet not at all familiar. The frustrated accountant let out a panicked cry as he looked down a forked path, one side led to what he could only assume more halls, but the other led to a set of stairs. It wasn’t the same spiraling staircase they walked up earlier, but this one was descending, so it was at least heading in the right direction. With a panicked groan, Bob took his chances, heading down the stairs with the floating knife trailing closely behind him. 

Further and further, Bob rushed down the stairs, trying to keep his footing but had the occasional slip and caught himself on the wall. With every loud echo that rang up the staircase, he would pause and watch the top of the stairs, waiting for any sign of his impending doom, then continue his journey. Didn’t take long for him to start regretting his choice as he was met with more forks in the path, having to squeeze through small corridors that lead into different stairwells, and couldn’t even find a window to see where he could’ve been in relation to the ground floor. There wasn’t any light from a torch, a lamp, or even the moon so he had to rely on his own magic to produce light to see ahead of him. He was more lost here than he was in the hallways, but he couldn’t turn back now. He wasn’t even sure if he knew where back was. 

Finally, the exhausted accountant reached the end of a staircase that didn’t lead to anymore decisions. He stepped out into a dark empty room, moving the dim ball of light in his palm forward to try and get better bearings of where he could have possibly ended up. The outline of a wooden surface just came into view, and upon closer investigation, Bob’s stomach sank. It was a wooden coffin, a finely polished carving with intricate detail along the rim and over the top, and a lock that held it shut. Bob slowly stepped away, letting it fade from his view but he was startled as he pushed himself back into a hard surface that creaked upon pressure. Another coffin that was not too far from the first he saw, this one more simple, no fine details on it. His hand pressed over his mouth to hold back a scream in panic, stumbling back until he felt his bare foot crunch onto something that was solid yet weak. Terror ran up his spine, freezing him in place. Everything in him told him not to look, but he had to make sure he didn’t just stab himself without realizing. He didn’t feel pain but he wouldn’t feel anything with the adrenaline pumping through him. Fuck it, he needed to see, as much as he didn’t want to. 

Focusing on the floating sphere in his palm, he squinted as he fed more of himself into it and tossed it into the air. The light burst out to every corner of the room, lighting everything with a white tone before settling with a powerful glow. Bob’s eyes strained for a moment as he adjusted to the light, looking to regrettably see a bone snapped under his foot. Anxiety filled his chest until he was choking on it, and his eyes traveled to see the trail of blood stained bones scattered carelessly across the room. His hand pressed against his chest as he quickly backed away, his knees shaking until they finally gave out, but caught himself on a stone slab. As his mind was catching up to him, he realized he wasn’t just touching stone, it was straight up marble. Hesitant to look, Bob glanced down to see a third coffin, this time in fact made of marble, but out of all of them, this was the finest and the largest. It was laced with golden carvings that bordered the surface, parts only shown when looking from different angles. Bob had to stand back up and circle it to see the whole scope of the masterpiece, but his attention was drawn to the center, the golden etching of Marilyn’s name sat clear as day. 

“How nice of you to have brought yourself down here.” A raspy voice echoed through the room. 

Bob felt his chest seize up with fear, the voice sounded a little different, but the fact he could hear it at all should’ve been impossible. Yet still, looking up ahead towards the entrance of the crypt, there he was. Standing at his full height without any sign weakness, a nasty wound across his neck stitched closed with a thick thread, and a furious look in his eyes. 

“Saves me the trouble. You know what Bob, you really are a  _ nice guy _ .” Marilyn’s voice wheezed, but it forced itself through his torn vocal cords as he began walking forward. “Not only did you come all this way to see me, but you went ahead and made yourself  _ exactly _ what I was looking for. A little rough around the edges with the extreme lack of height, and definitely have some paranoia issues, but I can make it work.” 

Forcing himself to do something, anything, Bob backed away from the tomb with the knife closely floating next to him to keep the distance between him and Marilyn. Desperately, he shot the blade forward, guiding it with his magic towards his impending doom. The blade whistled through the air as it zipped towards Marilyn, who didn’t even flinch as he smacked the knife aside as if it were a fly. It clambered to the floor motionlessly, skidding just out of range of Bob’s control. 

“Is that it? C’mon, as a caster I expect more from you now.” Marilyn chuckled with a playful tone. 

Bob looked around the room in panic. He didn’t have any of his materials with him. Usually he’d keep a few iron marbles in his pockets for protection, but he never slept with them. He still had some time to think of something as Marilyn was still half way across the vast empty room, or at least that was the last thing that went through his mind before being shoved back with an unbearable force. Marilyn moved like a flash of lightning, lifting Bob off the ground with ease and holding him up against the cold stone wall. Being strung up by the collar of his shirt, Bob froze up again, this time seeing every detail of his attacker thanks to the light above them. The fangs, darkened eyes, thin pupils, pointed ears, and the menacing demeanor that made him much more terrifying than when they first met. Bob had heard and read about many types of monsters and creatures of their worlds, and only one came to mind with this description, he just never believed they were still around.

“Nothing to say? No funny quips? A plea for your life? Bargains?” Marilyn pressed his body up against Bob’s to pin him in place, his head leaned eagerly towards the side of Bob’s head. 

“H-holy shit… vampires still exist?” was the only thought that managed to produce into words among the other fifty-six screaming he was going to die. “I thought you were all wiped out like the other creatures.” 

There was a hesitation before Marilyn let out a snarky laugh, “ _ Really? _ That’s what you’re asking before you die? Priorities, Bob! Make this entertaining  _ at least _ ! Scream!” 

“WHAT? No one is going to hear me if I scream! I already know I’m going to die, I knew that as soon as I saw the  _ bone pile on the floor _ ! The least I can do is distract you long enough to pull the gold from your casket!” Bob replied with a panicked crackly voice. 

“Yeah, but you can still t- wait the what?”

Marilyn’s head turned as a golden cuff snapped around his wrists and yanked him back onto the ground. Chains linked back to the marble tomb, quickly recoiling and dragging the vampire across the floor until his head slammed against the side of the marble. He let out an enraged snarl as he sat back up, pulling against the restraints and glaring at Bob. 

“Aren’t you just full of tricks?! Did you learn that from your magician’s kit?!” Marilyn hysterically grinned while yanking back on the gold cuffs, “You can do a lot of little card tricks, but can you do any real magic?! It’s going to waste on you! I would do so much more with that power!”

Bob had scrambled back to his feet and gotten ready to bolt until Marilyn’s last sentence. He wasn’t sure if it was him just saying anything to catch Bob’s attention, or if he was actually implying he was trying to gain the ability to perform magic. There was nothing in books about vampires being able to cast spells, in fact, no undead could. His eyes narrowed in confusion by the statement, wanting to run but there were so many questions he had about Marilyn’s goal. This could just be a trap though. He had to stick with his gut. Even if Marilyn was belittling his years of endless study to get to where he was.

“I don’t take criticism!” Bob yelled out as he ran past the vampire chained to his tomb. 

The bones shattered to dust under his footfalls as he sprinted through the room back towards the only exit. His heart was racing in his chest, the thought that he might actually get out of this place breached his mind for a second. As he ran between the coffins he swore the locked one rattled, but he couldn’t stop, he had no idea how long the chains would hold. As if on cue, there was a clanging of metal that echoed through the room. A shadow cast over him for a split second and he suddenly felt weightless. He was pulled up by the back of his collar off the ground and tossed into the air. Fear ran through him as he felt gravity take hold and began to fall for a second before his arm was viciously grabbed by a clawed hand. They pierced into his skin and held him in place as he looked upon two large bat-like wings sprouted out of Marilyn’s back, keeping them far above the ground. His features had become even more animalistic as it looked like he was holding back a primal rage that wanted to tear Bob apart at the seams. 

This time there were no words from him, which made it all the more terrifying. Bob watched in terror as Marilyn’s jaw snapped open, and before he could call upon anything to try and defend himself, the vampire’s teeth sunk into his arm. A shriek of pain escaped him as the jagged teeth tore through his skin like butter, and a lightheadedness followed quickly after. Fighting through the pain, Bob grabbed at Marilyn’s collar to fight him off, and to his surprise it worked. Or at least conveniently Marilyn happened to pull away at the same time. It was hard to focus from the sudden loss in blood, but it almost looked like he had a face of absolute disgust. Oh wait, he did. 

“UGH! WHAT THE FUCK?!” Marilyn coughed and spat the lingering blood from his mouth. He lowered Bob down until ultimately just dropping him so he could focus on the overwhelming and intruding taste in his mouth. 

“You taste like ink! Why do you taste like- Oh sh-”

Were the last words Bob heard before he hit the ground.


	3. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now we're introduced to MysterySpecies!Sol who is an alternate version of Sol from lava-bros.tumblr.com who is an alternate version of a Splorch from Super Mario.

There was stillness, a calm air that sat in the bedroom Bob was resting in. He groaned in pain as his consciousness came back to him, and it was a slow process. His body felt heavy, everything hurt, his muscles were stiff, and his mind was clouded. It took some convincing before his eyes finally opened, half lit and staring up at the canopy above him. The thin mesh curtains gently swayed with the breeze of the open window. The moonlight pouring in with a white glow, lighting up most of the room that Bob didn’t bother to see. He stayed with his eyes at the ceiling, trying to recall the last events as if they were a dream escaping him. His mind backtracked as far as when he was back at home: Sol was complaining about something to do with his work, sliding a letter to Bob with an address and some money. Then he left- wait. He didn’t have a beautifully handcrafted canopy for his bed. This wasn’t his bed, or his room, or his apartment. 

With that trigger, everything rushed back to him like a ton of bricks. Bob pushed past the pain and snapped upright to investigate the current position he was in, which surprisingly wasn’t that he was dead, unless he was and didn’t know it yet. However, he was met with the face of the last man he saw before blacking out. His arms outstretched and grabbing the two pillars of the canopy at the end of the bed, he just stared down at Bob with his thick brows knotted. How long was he standing there? How long was Bob even out for? Why is he even alive? Is he alive? There were a lot of questions going through his mind but none expressed externally. Instead his mouth just hung open as he stared back at Marilyn, unsure where to even start with his questions or if he should say anything at all. Neither one said anything, and it felt as if there was some unspoken stand off between them of who was going to speak first. Bob could see Marilyn’s chin shift as he was grinding his teeth, trying to read Bob like he was so kind of a clever spy that had alluded to all of his ploys. Meanwhile Bob’s mind had devolved into just screaming internally because this situation sucked.

“What did you do to your blood?” Marilyn finally broke the awkward tension. 

Now there was just a new tension, which wasn’t better, but Bob could at least force the brain power to respond with something useful to the situation. “My wha?” Useful.

“Your blood! Why does it taste like ink?!” Marilyn slammed the posts with frustration. That coy and playful demeanor hadn’t been shown too much anymore, which led Bob to believe the real Marilyn was finally starting to show. “It doesn’t have anything to do with either of your surgeries, you haven’t performed any ritual that changed your blood, and you don’t drink just straight ink either, so why?! Did someone do something to you that stops me from doing magic?!” 

Bob pushed himself further back into the bed as Marilyn became more aggressive, but as he pushed with his right leg, a pain he’d been ignoring shot through him and sent him reeling. He bit his bottom lip to keep himself from screaming as he pushed the covers off himself to check what the problem was. To his surprise his leg was already wrapped tightly in a bandage with a splint fastened next to his ankle. There was also a set of bandages wrapped tightly around his arm with a few specks of blood that had just started to fade in from his sudden movements. A strange gesture for Marilyn to do considering he was trying to kill him. 

“Answer me!” Marilyn shouted furiously to get Bob’s attention back. 

“I don’t know! Why would I know my blood tastes weird!? It tasted like blood last time I bit my tongue!” Bob responded with a panic. “I don’t know why you can’t do mag- wait how did you know about my surgeries?”

Marilyn groaned with frustration that he didn’t get any answers, pushing away from the bed and pacing the room as he thought. His fingers impatiently tapped at his chin as he looked around the room, then paused at Bob’s bag. He pulled it open, and shoved aside all the things he didn’t care about until he found a handheld mirror. There was no reflection back as Marilyn began to trace the symbol from Bob’s memories on the surface of the mirror. Then waited for a response, but nothing happened. Another frustrated groan rumbled in his scarred throat before he turned to Bob and tossed the mirror onto the bed in front of him. 

“Contact him! I want answers.” The vampire demanded as he situated himself back at the foot of the bed. 

Bob returned his gaze with a surprised look. “How did- you know what this is? I- okay, I mean I will but not because you told me to, but because I want some answers too.” He grabbed the handle of the mirror and turned it to face him.

There was a moment of relief when Bob saw his own reflection, meaning he wasn’t dead or undead, at least if those myths were actually true. He didn’t do much research on monsters and creatures to really identify what was just an old myth to scare kids or what was actually proven to be true, but he knew Sol did. His finger traced over the mirror in the same pattern Marilyn had done, but this time the runes lit up in his touch. There was a pause as Bob sat on the bed waiting for a response, and Marilyn stood at the other side of him watching impatiently. 

“It usually takes him a second to pick up so… just give him a minute.” Bob cleared his throat awkwardly as he felt Marilyn’s eyes burning the top of his skull. 

A solid three minutes of silence passed between the two of them as they waited for a response from the mirror. Bob could feel the sweat collecting on his brow as Marilyn just continued to stare with frustration. It was so quiet he could almost hear Marilyn’s thoughts on how he was going to just kill him on the spot if Sol didn’t answer. The tension became thicker the longer the time passed.

“Maybe your boss doesn’t care about you as much as you think he does. Honestly I should’ve just drai-” Marilyn cut himself off as the mirror began to light up. 

“Sorry, I had the mirror away from me, I didn’t see the rune.” A calm voice emitted from the mirror’s surface, partially muffled but still clear enough to catch every word. “What’s up? How was the trip? Isn’t it like 3 am over there?”

Marilyn curiously walked to the side of the bed to get a better look, he knelt down on the mattress and leaned over Bob to witness the mirror’s surface reflecting something different from just Bob looking into it. A thin man with dark red slicked back hair was walking around a desk and shifting a few bottles around. He’d occasionally look back at the mirror and grab it as he moved around what looked like a laboratory. 

“Hey, Sol, uh…” Bob glanced up as he felt Marilyn pushing lightly against his back to see. “Yeah, I um. I got to the Umberbridge manor, and yeah it’s pretty late. I’m glad you’re not asleep.” 

“You know I don’t sleep, you silly little bitch,” Sol grinned to the vial he was looking over before holding it close to his nose and giving it a quick sniff and putting it down. “So what’s going on? Why do you look like shit?”

“Yeah, about that.” Bob groaned as he subconsciously started fixing his hair to look less like shit, “So Marilyn… he uh… He knows about me, and a little about you.” 

“Yes, Mr. Savage, you’re a smart guy, right? I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me.” Marilyn chimed in, leaning further over Bob and grabbing his arm to tilt the mirror further up to face him. 

They both watched as Sol brought what Marilyn could only assume another mirror closer to himself, glancing at Bob then squinting as he looked around the surface of the reflection. “Is that Marilyn talking? Why is he hiding? Is he ugly?” 

“WHAT?!” Marilyn squeezed Bob’s wrist furiously, glancing down as he heard a stifled snort come from the short man and grabbed the back of his collar to shut him up. “I’m right here! And I look great, fuck you!” 

“Vamp- he’s a vampire.” Bob wheezed out from pulling on his collar.

Sol watched Bob for a moment, his brows raised with curiosity and his full attention turned towards the mirror. “Really? Alright, Marilyn, I’m listening. What questions do you have?” He grabbed a pen from his pocket and pulled off the cap with his teeth before setting it down, ready to take notes.

Marilyn gave a confused look for a moment, glancing down at Bob before letting go of his collar. "That's it? I expected more concern or shock, but alright. Why can't I do magic? Bob's blood tastes like ink, it's disgusting. Why is it so gross?"

"I never felt so self conscious about how my blood tastes." Bob mumbled to himself as Sol took down some notes. 

"The magic thing is easy. Sorry to tell you, vamp, but undead can't perform magic. There's rules that connect to the living, rules that of course can be broken, but not when you're already dead." Sol stated bluntly and Bob could feel Marilyn's grip tighten on his collar again. "But tell me about the blood thing, it tastes like ink? Does it turn you away from drinking more? Did it still satisfy you in the same way?"

Both Bob and Marilyn stared at the mirror speechless for a moment. At this point Bob shouldn't be surprised that Sol focused more on the fact  _ why _ Bob wasn't dead and glossed over that he  _ could've _ died. Sol always strived to dig deeper on why things didn't react like they should, it was what made him good at his work, but it made it difficult to work with because he often put his own health and others as a second thought.

“I… what? I’m asking  _ you _ why it tastes like this! You’re not taking over this transaction, I’m the one asking questions and you’re giving me answers.” Marilyn seethed as he pulled back on Bob and leaned forward, curling over the smaller man to get closer to the mirror to give a more threatening tone. Or at least he would if Sol could see him. “You have one week to give me an answer and a solution. I want magic, and you’re going to supply it to me. One week, or I’m keeping the caster for myself.”

Bob felt his stomach drop, Marilyn was already showing dominance by towering over him, but having to stay for a full week? That wouldn’t even ensure that he was going to be  _ safe _ , and he shouldn’t even be a bargaining chip. Sol already told Marilyn that he couldn’t use magic, this deal was set to failure before it even started. He knew Sol wasn’t dumb enough to actually agree to this. 

“Counter offer.” 

_ Fuck. _

“Become my sponsor and I will not  _ only _ supply you with magic, but with your assistance, I can answer all questions you may have about your kind.” Sol gave a charming grin. “Oh, and Bob can stay there until I arrive in two weeks to prepare the new contract and work out all the little details with you.” 

“ _ What?! _ ” Bob broke out, shoving Marilyn’s head aside to get a better view of Sol. “You can’t be serious? He’s a vampire! Sol, think about this. We can find the money from somewhere else, we don’t ne-” 

“Deal.” Marilyn scrunched the back of Bob’s shirt to tighten the collar around his throat and keep him quiet. “Two weeks, Mr. Savage. It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you.” 

With that, Marilyn wiped his hand across the runes on the mirror’s surface and the connection was cut. His head tilted down towards Bob who was still crouched underneath him, but now looking utterly defeated. He couldn’t even hold back a smug grin at his victory, positive that Bob thought that conversation was going to go differently and in his favor. 

“Don’t worry, I’m a great host. These two weeks are going to fly by, and then after that, we’ll all get what we want.” Marilyn grinned as he slid off the bed, fixing his shirt as he stood back up at full height. “We’ll figure out the contract stuff after your ankle heals. It’s just sprained, by the way, you’ll be fine.”

“Why am I still here?” Bob muttered while looking down at the mirror still grasped in his hand. 

Marilyn was taken aback for a moment, unsure by what he meant by the question but it definitely dropped his smug demeanor. “What do you mean? As in my home? Because I haven’t let you leave yet.”

“No, I mean why am I still alive? Is it just because my blood was that bad?” Bob’s gaze focused on the wraps around his arm, covering the bite wound he knew was still there. “So if it was normal, I would be dead, right?”

There was another pause as Marilyn stared down at Bob’s movements, trying to read what he was looking to get out of this conversation. He was starting to catch on that Bob was more perceptive than he came off, which meant he had to watch his words. Yet the short man would get completely flustered with any form of flattery, something Marilyn would definitely keep in his pocket. 

“You’re alive because you’re my ticket to Solomon,” Marilyn narrowed his eyes and grabbed Bob’s shirt tightly to pull him closer, “and he’s going to be here in two weeks regardless of if you’re dead or alive. So remember that, and don’t do anything stupid.” 

Bob watched as Marilyn’s eyes became dark with a deep crimson before shoving him back and walking off. The door shut behind him harshly and Bob listened as the footsteps grew distant. With a heavy sigh, Bob laid back in the bed and put the mirror down next to him. His eyes kept up at the ceiling as he watched the gentle flow of the canopy move with the breeze of the open window. Was he a prisoner or a business partner now? Both? This was a disaster. Sol and Bob didn’t need Marilyn’s sponsorship, though that cash that was just sitting around somewhere in this giant manor was intriguing. 

His head turned towards the door, watching it quietly as he thought about the risks of staying in this hell hole longer versus getting out as soon as he could. If he could find that cash, he could go back before Sol even left and they wouldn’t need to rely on Marilyn. Though if he left now, he would have a better chance of getting out of this alive. The money they needed for the research though, Sol was awful at managing their funds and would constantly blow it on materials he thought would be useful. Sometimes of course they would be and it would improve on his work, but most of the time they end up as duds. Sol unfortunately seemed very interested in learning about Marilyn and he might not be convinced to turn away if Bob left empty handed, but he would always get himself in over his head because of his ego. He needed that cash. 

With another frustrated sigh, Bob rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He was going to have to be cautious with this, and pull up some old tricks he’d hope to leave behind many many years ago when he decided to change his life around. How unfortunate he was going to play back into that role everyone thought he was going to. Once a thief, always a thief.


End file.
